


Three Hours to Paris

by cadkitten



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Cumshot, Exhibitionism, Fluff, Frottage, JayTim Week, Nude Photos, Oral Sex, Pseudo-Incest, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-05
Updated: 2016-08-05
Packaged: 2018-07-29 10:00:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7680064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadkitten/pseuds/cadkitten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The softest groan met his ears and Jason froze, amusement lancing through him. <i>No way</i>. Tim... little Timmy bird... there was no way in hell <i>he</i>, of all people, had the damn <i>balls</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three Hours to Paris

**Author's Note:**

> For JayTimWeek over on tumblr. Day 4: Photography  
> Beta Readers: kate1zena  
> Song[s]: "Let Me Love You" by Ariana Grande (Ft. Lil Wayne)

_Three hours._

Jason sighed, shifting in his seat and tugging the little cotton blanket back up over him, making a little face at just how cold the air circulating the cabin was. They'd already been on the plane for half the evening; the flight to Paris was taking longer than any of them had expected given a few weather-related detours to other airports. Though, he supposed he couldn't really complain, knowing that other people had it far worse, flying commercial instead of inside of a Wayne Enterprises private jet. 

Their final destination wasn't even Paris. The whole route was to throw-off anyone looking to sync up wherever Wayne jets were going versus where the boys ended up running the night. But Jason wanted to spend at least a few hours looking over some of the better-known tourist spots in Paris for throwing any tails _of course_. Anyone could have called him on his bullshit, but he took note that no one had when he'd brought it up. Instead, he'd seen the glimmer of glee in Dick's gaze and the smug little hidden smile Damian had given when Bruce hadn't argued. Tim hadn't reacted, but given he was the best at hiding his emotions when he wanted to, Jason couldn't really tell anything more than that.

Even with all of that to look forward to, Jason was damn tired of the plane already. He arched his head back, cracking his neck just once before he settled, stifling a yawn. If he did any more sleeping, he'd be a zombie when they arrived and that wasn't the way he wanted to explore Paris. Pushing his tongue against the back of his teeth, he did his best to stop himself from gritting his teeth to stop the yawn. Huffing out a little sigh through his nose, he pulled one foot up onto his seat, leaning into the pressure it created, stretching out the back of his thigh. Three more hours of this shit. It was going to be torture, he was sure.

Behind him, he heard the distinct _click_ of a camera phone. Pushing a little bit up from the seat, Jason craned his neck to see Dick and Damian passed out, the younger pretty much drooling on Dick's shoulder. Which left Tim. Jason almost snorted. Of _course_ Tim would take photos of the damn clouds he'd probably seen a million times before. Or - benefit of the doubt - maybe he was taking photos of Damian and Dick for later blackmail material. Actually, the idea wasn't a bad one, if he were truthful. But if Tim had already taken it, he wasn't about to steal that material from him.

Leaning back, Jason closed his eyes, trying to think over the myriad of places he wanted to hit up and what order would be most time-efficient to getting to see them all. Some things were clearly out of the question, like going all the way up the Eiffel Tower. But they could see it from the ground and that'd be good enough. Of course he'd want to see the Arc de Triomphe and Montmarte, even if from afar, given their time restraints. And he wasn't going to take no for an answer to seeing the Friendship bridge and the Pont Alexandre III bridge. Sliding one hand down, he smiled as he palmed the three tiny locks in his pocket. Absolutely no one was going to talk him out of putting those locks up there with his brothers. 

Maybe he was a sentimental fool, but they'd all been getting along so much better this past year than they ever had and some part of him wanted to leave a tiny piece of the brotherly part of them behind in such a beautiful city, so rich with culture. It would give them all a story to tell, chalk full of _you won't believe it_ magic, straight from his big ol' heart and right out into the real world. He was also damn certain Bruce was never going to believe it by the time the story made its way back to him.

The one thing Jason had on his to do list that he was sure no one would disagree on was the cabaret. Lido or Moulin Rouge, it didn't matter to him. Pretty ladies all decked out in showgirl clothing, feathers, and giant props. It was sure to be a high-point of any trip and he figured even grumpy-pants wouldn't complain too hard once he got a good eyeful of what was under those removable skirts. Teenage hormones were a _hell_ of a thing, even if Damian did think himself above it all.

Another click of the camera drew Jason out of his thoughts, leaving him feeling silly for grinning stupidly about the cabaret. Wetting his lower lip to wipe the look off of his face, he reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on. Oh _good_ , he'd been gritting his teeth the whole time. Moving his jaw, he popped it a few times. Behind him, the shutter clicked again. _Christ_ , what was Tim taking so many pictures of? Jason leaned toward the window, glancing out and finding he couldn't even see the world below them, the cloud cover too thick and the deepening darkness not even affording the ability to see more than a blob of the clouds. So _not that_. 

Easing back against his seat, he changed which leg was propped up and started to reach for his book. The softest groan met his ears and Jason froze, amusement lancing through him. _No way_. Tim... little Timmy bird... there was no way in hell _he_ , of all people, had the damn _balls_. He kept himself still, waiting, listening. Another telltale little gasp and the sound of the seat shifting with extra pressure. Another click of the camera and Jason nearly lost it; stuffing his fist against his mouth to hold back a snicker. There was no way he was going to let him live this one down. Not a chance in hell.

Quietly, Jason moved the blanket aside, pushing his mind into focusing on being stealthy. He unfolded himself from the seat, not even a creak of his leather boots as he moved. His world narrowed down to Tim's every breath, to the quiet sounds of what he was doing so very close behind him, and he moved in the same instants, covering his sounds with Tim's own. 

Slipping around the corner, he blended into the shadows of the mostly dark cabin, glancing toward what Tim was doing, glad he was at least covered with his blanket. It was _so_ obvious he was jerking it. Jason opened his mouth to say something, intent to step out of the shadows as he did so. Before he could manage any words, Tim arched up from the seat, another breathy little intake of air leaving him looking and sounding like a damn porn star. And not the shoddy half-baked kind either - the kind Jason would have watched on repeat until he blew his load.

The realization that he was looking at Tim _like that_ left him feeling a little bit tingly, the shock of it radiating through him with a certain physicality. Sucking his lower lip into his mouth, Jason gnawed lightly on it before letting it go in favor of very carefully leaning back against the wall, just letting his gaze trail over Tim's slim form. He was only wearing a black tank top now, the flannel shirt he'd had on earlier tossed across the seat next to him, and Jason knew the incredibly tight pair of red jeans were under that blanket. They'd all commented on the predicament of Tim's poor balls being stuffed into them before they'd left the airstrip. But now... Jason was starting to see them in a whole new light.

Swallowing thickly, he slid his tongue over his abused lip. So maybe it wasn't the first time he'd noticed how attractive Tim was. There'd been a time, a few years ago, when he'd seen Tim come walking in post-morning-jog, his hair half-falling out of a ponytail, yoga pants, and hugely oversized shirt. Jason had looked at him for a few seconds in a whole other kind of way. Until he'd remembered this was his _brother_ he was staring at like a complete nut job. 

Right now, he couldn't find it in him to _care_ anymore. After all, they weren't _really_ related. He hadn't even been around when Tim had been welcomed into Bruce's life. It was a pathetic justification as to why he was watching Tim misbehave in the middle of their flight, but he'd be damned if he cared right then. 

Tim arched up again, the blanket creeping downward, showing just the barest hint of Tim's stomach where he'd pulled up his shirt; all smooth muscles for miles, the hint of his hipbones, and-

Damian snorted loudly in his sleep and Jason jerked his head toward the sound, realizing he'd completely forgotten Dick and Damian were even there. No more than a second later, he heard Tim breathe out, "Jay?" 

For one heart-stopping instant there was nothing in the world that Jason wanted more than to somehow absorb into the floor of the plane and just _disappear_. Slowly, he looked back toward Tim, finding him just the way he'd left him, hand even still down under the blanket, as if he were entirely unafraid of being caught. Voice cracking, he offered a quiet, "Yeah?"

The grin that spread over Tim's face was best described as shit-eating or perhaps into the ranks of Cheshire. Either way, Jason found that he legitimately had no idea what to do with this particular reaction to him watching. If Tim had panicked, he could have ribbed him. If he'd gone red at being caught, Jason could have mercilessly, _relentlessly_ gone after how he'd had the nerve to do such a thing in a _plane_ of all places, but this... Jason had _no idea_ how to deal with it. 

Tim shifted the hand clutching his phone to ease it into the holder on the side of his chair, letting the blanket shift even lower; low enough the barest hint of where the lightest of treasure trails led to showed itself to him. Jason's heart thudded in his chest and he became abruptly aware of just how damn hard he was. There would be no lying with that evidence in the mix; no backing out of what was happening here. The slightest heat crept into his cheeks and along his neck, leaving him grateful for the cold he'd been irritated with only minutes before. 

Tim lifted his hand, slowly turning his arm to expose his wrist, fingers slowly curling in a come-hither motion. Jason thought on anyone else, it would have looked silly, but on Tim it was so incredibly sensual that he couldn't even remotely stop the rush of desperation that flooded him. Jason found himself advancing without any of the reserve he would have thought he should have felt. 

Kneeling in front of his chair, he let his eyes meet Tim's, let his heat consume him. "Were you-"

"Mmhmm."

Jason didn't even get his mouth open to ask why before Tim had him by the collar, yanking him close enough to whisper in his ear. "Don't even think about asking why. I think even _you_ can add two and two together and get four." Jason didn't miss the dig but somehow it damn near made him moan this time. Usually Tim's comments just made him roll his eyes. He'd have to rethink how he thought about them from now on though. Jason let his hands slide over Tim's thighs, feeling the strength... the power in them and he could feel his breath starting to catch in his throat. His fingers scrunched up in the blanket and he cast a questioning look up at him. 

Tim eased back against the chair, reaching up to pillow his hands behind his head, a self-satisfied smirk on his lips. He mouthed out, "Do it," and Jason forgot to so much as hesitate. The blanket pooled on the floor between them, Jason's eyes flickering over everything Tim had on display. Those hipbones, so defined and utterly glorious to behold. The neat little patch of hair around the base of his cock and the faint hint of the trail leading down to it. And then there was his cock. The instant Jason let himself actually look he was sure he was about to lose his damn mind. It'd been _years_ since he'd even wanted to be with another man, but being presented with Tim's cock like this left him with only the desire to fucking _choke_ on it. 

Sliding his hands over Tim's thighs, he squeezed and then leaned forward, giving Tim a moment to protest, their eyes meeting, but he only found pleasure and satisfaction in that gaze and nothing was going to stop him. Bruce Wayne himself could have called and Jason would have told him to hold the fuck on. He let his fingertips explore, the material of his jeans rough against his skin... and then the flesh of Tim's hips soft, surprisingly so. His palms settled against his skin as he leaned in, lips brushing the tip of Tim's length, pulling one of those beautiful gasps from his throat. With a groan of his own, he opened his mouth and slid his tongue out, tasting the head, the faintest hint of salt there. 

Closing his eyes, Jason let himself just enjoy the sensory experience of blowing Tim. The slide of his cock in and out of his mouth, the pull of his lips as they eased his foreskin back just the slightest. Tim filled his mouth to almost his limits and he couldn't have been happier to have him like this. He bobbed his head, just enjoying the slow ebb and flow of fullness. Turning his head, he trailed his lips down the side of his shaft, tongue trailing along the veins, leaving a trail of saliva behind. His hands moved to caress the swell of Tim's ass, finding all hard muscle, his arousal levels slamming even higher. 

Jason took him in again, working him a little quicker this time, shifting himself forward to rock his hips lightly against the front of the seat. He lost track of time as he worked on getting all of Tim into his mouth, on taking him until he was sure he was damn near about to choke on him. Nothing in the world could compare to the feeling of a dick in his mouth like this, not even the velvet heat of a woman wrapped around him, and he'd once said that was damn near paramount in his world. But this... _this_ was heaven itself. 

Tim's right leg began to tremble and Jason slid his hand down to squeeze it, redoubling his efforts over Tim's cock, nearly pulling off with every upward movement and plunging back down to the point he virtually gagged on it. His own hips jerked against the chair and it took everything in him not to start moaning like he was about to blow. Tim's hand pressed against the back of his head, pushing him down even more, shoving his nose down into the hair at the base of his cock, and Jason _did_ gag a little. His eyes watered and he swore he'd never felt so _alive_. 

Tim gave a roll of his hips and then he was straining up from the seat, giving shallow little thrusts into Jason's mouth as he started to cum. Jason's mouth flooded with bitter salt and he pulled up, grasping Tim's cock and stroking him through it, letting it splash over his lips as he slowly spit the rest back out all over him. 

It took Tim's hand coming to stop his hand from stroking before he quit. Hanging his head, he took in shaky breath after breath, doing his best to level himself out, despite how close he'd been himself. 

"Oh no you don't." The hand that tugged at his shirt clearly meant business and Jason heeded Tim, pulling himself upright and allowing him to guide him to straddling his thigh. Grinning at him, Tim reached down, making quick work of freeing him from his pants. He eased himself down in the seat a little, squirming his pants down just a bit more, and then urged Jason forward, holding onto the back of his neck, breathing out, "Hump me until you come, Jay."

Jason's heart beat frantically in his chest, the words leaving him desperate to feel what Tim was offering him. Shifting until he was using the back of the seat for leverage, he tilted his hips, letting his knees slip back to the edge of the seat. His length pressed against Tim's hip and he pushed his face against Tim's neck, huffing out the smallest of groans, followed by, "Sweet God."

Within seconds, he lost every ounce of control he'd been holding onto, starting to rut himself against Tim's beautiful body. He moved so that he could watch what was doing, heart pounding, breath barely coming in little gasping pants between movements. It was delicious; left him delirious. And _Lord_ , he was so close. Curling his hands around the seat harder, he jerked his hips harder... quicker. "Tim, I-" he gasped out before Tim's mouth was there, pressed hard against his own, stealing his breath and his words, sealing up his moans from the outside world and freeing him to a whole other world where his movements came mindlessly and his pleasures coated in delirium. 

When he came, Jason swore he understood why the French were so intent upon calling it _voir les anges_ , because he was pretty damn sure he _could_ see Heaven for an instant. Ripping himself back from the kiss, he strained forward, emptying every last ounce he had over Tim's hip, his eyes rolled back in his head and his breath stuck in his throat. Just as abruptly, he was gasping for air, trembling as he came down hard from it, crashing back to Earth in a way that reminded him of the one time he'd actually fallen off of a building, only without the incredible pain that had followed. It was like that first instant; the shock, the awe that he'd _survived_ , and nothing in Jason would ever let him regret a single moment of what had just transpired.

Slowly, he caught his breath and eased up on the death-grip he had on the chair. Wetting his lips, he offered Tim an incredibly genuine smile, satisfaction sliding through his veins as he studied him. "I'm not even going to ask _why_ and just thank you." Jason pushed himself off of Tim's lap, hitching up his pants and glancing toward Damian and Dick, who were still out like a damn light, showing absolutely no evidence that they'd heard a thing. Pulling his shirt back into place, Jason plucked the blanket off of the floor, tossing it over Tim's lap, leaning in to whisper out, "Never joined the mile high club before. I have to say... it makes three hours a hell of a lot more tolerable."

Tim's grin was a million watts, the jolt of it going straight through Jason. "Two hours." Jason had never wanted to throw back his head and _laugh_ more in his entire life than he did right then. And _that_ was worth everything.


End file.
